Second Chances
by PhoenixSong2013
Summary: "Two master assassins, a legend that kind of lives up to legend, a man with breathtaking anger management issues, and one badass witch; you, big guy, have managed to piss off every one of them." Luna Lovegood was exactly what the Avengers needed, and maybe the Avengers was just what she needed. Clint/Luna and Natasha/Bruce.
1. Agent Lovegood

Natasha Romanoff faced the tall glass windows, her hands folded neatly behind her back and her dark green eyes serious. Clint was out there, somewhere, left alone to fight off the offences of Loki, a Demigod. What she would give to bring her best friend back… she'd give anything, at that moment, to have his shoulder to lean on.

Steve Rogers, Thor, and Anthony Stark sat, watching Fury threaten Loki within an inch of his life, around a glass table. But all she could think about was her best friend, fighting off the other in his mind, desperately trying to regain control. She had once felt that way.

Director Fury had pointed towards Loki, "Ant," he barked, "Boot." He motioned to the controls, flicking down the glass case on the red button that would, one day, lead someone to their end. She shook her head, turning back to the screens and looking down on Loki with a steely gaze, thinking of all the ways she could kill him if a hair on Clint's head was out of place.

"A mindless beast," snarled Loki. Bruce stiffened, folding his arms and not meeting anyone's gaze. There was a green tinge to his skin, and Natasha placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, "makes play he's still a man. How desperate are you? You call on such lost creatures to defend you!"

Fury stepped closer to the glass, and Steve refrained from lashing out at the screen. "How desperate am I? You threaten our world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace, but you kill people 'cause it's fun. You have made me very desperate… and you might not be glad that you did."

"Desperate to have summoned so many old and forgotten forces!" mocked Loki, smiling cruelly. "A time-bomb that's always ready to explode, a monster! A pair of assassins who couldn't kill a small rabbit! A soldier who is too weak to show no emotion! A supposed genius who hides behind a metal suit! And…"

"Me," said a dreamy, vacant voice. A woman with white-blonde hair, pale skin, vacant grey eyes, and angered expression approached the glass from seemingly nowhere. "He has called me."

Loki smiled coldly, turning to the woman. "A witch," he said; a convincing tone in his voice. "Luna Lovegood – the woman who fought in a war at sixteen. You would do so much better on…" Natasha sucked in a breath; Steve's fists clenched; Bruce's skin tinged green; the air around Thor crackled; Tony stiffened.

"Your side?" the woman laughed, and Natasha let out a breath. "I didn't just fight a war at sixteen. I won it. My life has not been sunshine and rainbows, Loki, but I refuse to turn to the dark side because of it. Do you know how hard it is to avoid every last Death Eater that is still out for revenge? You know nothing of the tortured yells of your friends; you know nothing of running through the onslaught of every curse imaginable, trying desperately to find your friends and keep them safe… My father was killed in that war, Loki; my best friend's parents lost their sanity in that war; Harry Potter's parents gave their lives to protect their son. What makes me any different? You imagine yourself just like Voldemort, don't you? You don't get me, Loki! You don't know what I've been through! You speak of war like you have fought one, but I know for a fact that you have not. War will change you, wizen you up. I was forced into one at a young age for believing in the Light, the good side; but I do not regret standing my ground for what I have always believed. What makes this any different, Loki? I will always stand up to you, because you're wrong."

The woman turned her back on Loki, pulling a long, thin black stick from a pocket way too small for it. Tony's jaw hung, not on the stick, put his eyes fixed on her jean pocket; Steve's eyes widened; Bruce gained colour in his face, his mouth forming a perfect 'o'; Natasha gaped.

"Have you never been on the receiving end of my wand before, Loki?" challenged the woman, taking a step forward, towards the glass. "Normally I would break that glass and curse you until you were a mere pile of ash…"

Loki growled, charging towards the edge of the glass. He suddenly stopped, raising a hand. "But you wouldn't, would you? I have something very special to you: a boy, at the age of six. Messy, dark hair, hazel eyes, glasses. Does that sound familiar to you?" he teased her, and she gasped and raised a fist to the glass and her fist connected with it.

A large crack spread across the glass. "What have you done with him?" she shrieked, her grey eyes losing the vacant defiance and glowing dangerously. She lowered her tone so they couldn't hear her angered snarl. "What have you done with my Godson?"

Natasha gasped once more, her hand flying to the handle of her gun; it was one thing to harm a person, but to harm the _family_…? It was a few miles over the line. Bruce's skin surged green once more and Tony stood up and turned from the table. Steve went pale; his hand reaching for his shield, which he knew wasn't there.

Loki smirked, stepping away from the crack in the glass. "Now, now," he sounded a bit nervous. "My client, Mr Agent Barton, has him. He won't be coming back to you anytime soon. In fact, I think…"

"You take me to him now!" shrieked the blonde, cutting him off and raising the stick. "Or so help me Merlin…"

Director Fury laid a hand on the stick and pushed it back down. "Calm, Miss Lovegood. Agent Coulson is waiting for you in the debriefing room. Meet him there – you have to meet the other Avengers. We'll do all we can to find your Godson."

The woman growled at Loki, whirling around – her blonde hair crackled and fizzed dangerously – and stalking out of the room. Coulson, who had been hovering in the corner of the room, waved his hand – the door opened. Footsteps angrily stomped down the hallway, and the blonde woman marched into the room, taking a seat next to Natasha, twirling the stick dangerously between her fingers as she muttered incoherently under her breath.

"Miss Lovegood," said Coulson, laying a hand on her shoulder. She shot out of her seat, the stick finding itself at his throat. "Would you kindly put that down?" The woman relaxed, dropped the stick on the table and laying a loving hand over it. "Avengers," he addressed the room at large, and Tony sat back down, "this is your new teammate. Her name is Luna Lovegood."

The woman laughed suddenly, holding the stick fondly. "I wonder if I could put up wards against Nargles in here. I'm sure the Director won't mind…"

"What's a Nargle?" asked Steve curiously, leaning forward in his chair. "And what do you mean by wards?"

Luna smiled dreamily at him, flicking a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. "A Nargle is a magical creature that steals your thoughts. And wards are special magic barricades that keep things out or in. I'm a witch!"

"A witch?" snorted Tony disbelievingly, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head. "There's no such thing as witches."

Natasha shook her head, trying to process the fact. Everything she had grown up to believe shattered in that moment, the truth crashing down.

Luna raised an eyebrow. "So this is not magic?" she mused, raising the stick. _"Expecto Patronum!" _A hare made of silvery mist shot out the end of the stick, scampering around the room. It snuck under Bruce's arms, looking up expectantly at him. But as he raised his other hand, shocked, it faded.

Tony fell off his chair, his eyes never leaving the place the hare had once been. Natasha slumped back in his chair, forgetting about the blank façade she had kept up her whole life and showing her utter shock. Steve put his head in his hands, muttering about witches and magic hares. Bruce's hand remained in the air where the hare had once been begging for a scratch.

"Ooh I've been wanting to show Harry that for ages!" said Luna absently, scratching her chin. Tony blubbered for a moment, obviously thinking of words to say.

"So…" Steve trailed off. "You're a witch?"

_**Hey, guys. This is a remake of one of my past stories. If you have any suggestions, please PM me. If you do, call me Marlene, please. Not a lot of people do these days.**_

_**This is a HP/Avengers crossover. Luna was the first character I thought of, cause she's the funniest one out of all of the living ones, I say. George never really was the same after Fred died – and anyway, the Avengers need some girl power. And the boy on ransom is James Sirius Potter, Luna's Godson, Harry's son.**_

_**Marlene xxx.**_


	2. I'm On My Way

Luna hummed non-committedly, shrugging. "There's actually a whole community in every country of magical beings - centaurs, pixies, thestrals, hippogriffs, stuff like that. They've been under your nose for centuries and possibly before. There are three kinds of witch or wizard. A pureblood: people with not a drop of normal blood in their veins. Some of them are supremacists and believe that people with normal or half-normal blood are below them, and try to stamp muggleborns and half-bloods out so there's pure blood all around," she paused, "and even though I'm a pureblood, I don't believe in those things. I'm actually pretty open about not believing in things like that - at Hogwarts people called me Loony Lovegood. I'm what most would call a blood traitor. Then there are half-bloods. One of their parents is either muggleborn or muggle - a muggle is a normal person -, and the other is a pureblood wizard. Some of them support supremacy because they're cowards and don't want to die. Then there are muggleborns. They are a witch or wizard whose lineage contains not a drop of magical blood, yet they somehow have magic in their cores. One of my best friends is a muggleborn, and many describe her as the brightest witch of her age. My other best friend is a half-blood, and Ron and Ginny are purebloods like me."

Natasha shook her head, confused. "What's Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," said Luna, grinning. "The best school of magic in the world. In Scotland, you know, run by Minerva McGonagall. It's a castle that's been 'under repairs' for thousands of years. Muggles can't go anywhere near it because as soon as they get near enough to border the wards around it, they'll suddenly remember appointments and rush off. Magic is wonderful."

Bruce sat down heavily next to Natasha, and she put a hand over his. He smiled down at her, and she smirked back before turning to Luna, who was showing Steve apparation. She disappeared with a 'pop' and landed on her feet a few feet away. Steve gaped, Natasha covered her mouth with her hand, Bruce tapped his chin thoughtfully, Thor laughed a booming laugh, and Tony, who was lying beneath the table unconscious, snored on valiantly.

"You think about the place you want to go," explained Luna from her perch on top of the table, "and turn on the spot. You sort of feel like you're being squished through a tube, but I think that only happens if you've got Nargles in your ears. For years I've been trying to ward them away, but my charmed radishes don't work," she sighed, motioning to the strange radish earrings she was wearing. "I wonder..."

**BOOM!**

Natasha slipped off her seat and onto Tony's chest, who sat up blindly and shrieked, "I'm up, JARVIS!" Bruce frowned and helped the assassin to her feet, and Tony pulled himself up using her chair. The room shook, and there were shouting voices and screams coming from down the hall. Luna stood up, holding her wand tightly, and slipped out of the room. Thor followed her, which left the remaining four in the room alone.

"We are under attack. Engine 3 is down. Repeat, we are under attack. Engine 3 is down," the voice of Maria Hill rang over the intercom, and Steve and Tony rushed out of the room and down the left corridor to help fix it. Natasha turned to Bruce as all the doors began to seal themselves shut. He was trying to override the system, typing away frantically on the keypad beside the door as the door was halfway shut.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him from the keypad. As they reached the door, the ceiling caved in and blocked their exit. Bruce landed a few feet away from Natasha, whose leg was stuck under a fallen pipe. He turned green as he landed amidst the metallic rubble. Natasha sensed his growing anger and tried in vain to push the pipe away from her body.

Hulk roared as he stood. He spotted the young redhead trying to push the pipe off her leg, and recognised her. _Pretty lady want to play? _ Hulk lifted it from her leg, and she sprang athletically to her feet and raced off in the other direction, down the corridor. She led him away from the control unit and towards the cargo area, darting just out of the way of his swipes. _Why doesn't pretty lady want to play?_ He swiped for her again, and she crashed through a glass window.

Natasha shrieked and, in a state of panic, pulled out her gun and blindly shot behind her. A roar of anger told her she had hit her mark, and she tried to throw him off her trail by darting behind a nearby barrel.

* * *

Luna threw herself into the hallway and into total chaos: Coulson and Hill both had guns out and were back-to-back, shooting any offenders back as Fury, whose eye patch had been thrown off in the explosion to reveal a grotesque hole where his right eye should have been, shot many others in any limbs he could. In the middle of the frantic scuffle stood a tall, sandy-haired man with electric blue eyes and bulging muscles who held a bow, which was conveniently aimed at Hill.

"No!" yelped Luna, pointing her wand determinedly at the man. He turned to face her, smirking. _Clint Barton. _He notched an arrow and shot it effortlessly, but she deflected it into the arm of a nearby attacker with a well-placed shield. Barton's face fell, but he covered it up with a trademark smirk that already irked her to no end. _"Stupefy!"_

Barton stumbled back and she shot a silent _Immobulus_ at him, which wrapped tightly around his upper arms and sent him spiralling into the pillar behind him. He let out a yell of shock and struggled against his bindings.

Luna mistook his yell of shock to be one of pain, and quickly reversed the spell. Barton smirked at her, quickly notching an arrow. She lifted her wand once more, internally berating herself, and took a defensive stance. From what Fury had told her, he was really a kind of man who fought for what was right; she wasn't about to hurt someone like that; men like that didn't come around often those days.

The arrow whizzed past her ear and through her hair and she bit back a cry. Luna hurled a silent hex at him in return, but he leapt over the jet of orange light and it illuminated the wall behind him, leaving a fizzing mark on the wall. Barton sneered and reached a hand back for another arrow, but realised he was out and resorted to hand-to-hand combat. Luna followed his lead, tucking her wand into the holster she kept on her wrist at all times.

Barton lunged for her, but she twirled out of the way gracefully. He raised a foot to strike her in the stomach, but she caught it and turned him around, forcing him to hobble for the wall. He ducked, using her hand for leverage and landing over her head. Before she had time to turn, he struck her hard in the small of the back, sending her to the ground. Barton loomed over her, raising his fist, but she kicked him hard in the face, and he slumped to the floor.

Luna huffed as she stood up, flicking her wrist and her wand slid into her waiting fingers. She bound him once more, and levitated him down the hallway. Coulson and Hill shot the last six down and hurried in the other direction, but Fury stayed and began to pile up the men in a corner, barking at some nearby scientists to clean it up.

"I'm so, sorry, Agent Barton," whispered Luna, dashing into a nearby room. She settled him into a chair and conjured ropes that were charmed to keep him bound until she released him. Putting a hand over the earpiece in her ear, she reported to the others. "I have Barton, and the enemies on the bridge are down. Anybody copy?"

Natasha's voice was the quickest to answer. "Where is he?"

"Er... Room 403, I think."

"I'm on my way."

* * *

_**Yay! Another chapter! Are any of you on YouTube? If so, check out Todrick Hall's Mean Gurlz or the Hungry Games. They're awesome. Check out Pentatonix if you're into music, too.**_

_**I love the Natasha/Bruce moment in this. Review and tell me your favourite part.**_


	3. What The Hell Was That?

Natasha ducked behind the barrel, panting. She held the gun to her chest, both fingers on the trigger, and blinked. No noise came from behind her. Natasha held her breath and turned around, her red hair a mere flash as she moved away from the barrel. Out of nowhere, the Hulk reared up and knocked her gun away.

She shuffled backwards, trembling slightly, and reached out for her gun. Before she had the chance to pick it up again, Hulk gave a mighty roar and crushed it, bearing down upon her. Natasha opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her body was in fight or flight mode and, unfortunately for her, it was currently in gear with flight. She ducked between his legs and sprinted down the corridor.

Luna's voice sounded in her ear. "I have Agent Barton, and our enemies on the bridge are down. Anybody copy?" Her British accent was tinted with adrenaline, and she sounded breathless.

"Where is he?" responded Natasha, putting a hand to her ear.

The responding voice came in Steve's, "Er... Room 403, I think. Luna dragged someone in there. He was knocked out."

"I'm on my way," said Natasha, sprinting ahead of the green rage monster running behind her. "I have company, Lovegood! Get ready!"

Luna giggled and replied, "Of course! I want to join the party!" Her voice became serious. "Thor, head towards Deck B now. Hulk needs to be flashed down and you're the best man for the job."

Natasha darted out of the way of Hulk's grabbing hands, turning a corner and bowling over a group of scientists. Hulk roared and trampled over them, ripping a metal pipe from the ceiling. "This is not the way I wanted to go!" called Natasha into her earpiece. "A little help?"

"What's the magic word?"

"I have no idea, Luna. You're the witch here." said Natasha sarcastically, yelping and rolling through a gap in the floor. "Change of plans! I'm leading him to where you're at, Lovegood, and you're going to disable him. Thor can drag him back to his room."

Luna's voice was the quickest to reply. "Got it."

Natasha shrieked as she rounded a corner. Not once in her encounter with the Hulk had she stopped running. A wave of blonde hair around the next corner told her she was going the right way and she darted around the bend and into the nearest room. Clint was strapped to the bed, struggling, veins pulsing in his arms and sweat falling relentlessly down his body.

A voice outside shouted, _"Impedimenta!"_ and there was a roar of frustration. _"Stupefy!"_

"Oh, Clint," whispered Natasha, collapsing in the chair beside his bed. Clint's eyes flashed between electric blue and their beautiful sea-blue. "Hold on - you can fight it. You can do it. Just push him out. Say no. That's it. You can do it." She grabbed his hand through his restraints and let him break it, a single tear dripping down her cheek as she watched him convulse.

Luna rushed in a moment later, taking the seat closer to Clint's head and drawing her wand. "This will help him," she assured Natasha, who had opened her mouth to speak. "It's a numbing charm. _Brutias!"_

Clint relaxed instantly, his eyes flitting to their normal blue. Electricity crackled around his chest before he slumped onto the bed, breathing evenly.

"Thank you," breathed Natasha, embracing Luna lightly and hurrying out of the room to check on Bruce.

* * *

Clint groaned and tried to roll over, but tight restraints around his arms told him not to move. He quickly assessed the situation, thinking back to his training with S.H.I.E.L.D... It all came flooding back. The blue light that had engulfed his vision, the other voice in his head compelling him to murder all of those people, the taunting when he struggled to the surface. And last of all, came the face of a woman. She had vacant grey eyes, stormy with determination, and long, wavy white-blonde hair. She was light on her feet and nimble, slim and small. Just like Natasha.

"Nat?" he murmured, cracking open a single eye. Instead of the bright green eyes he had expected, holding his hand and murmuring consolations to him, he found a pair of beautiful grey eyes he vaguely recognised from somewhere before. They looked relieved. "You're not Natasha," he said evenly, sizing up his choices: bound on top of a bed, not good, or try to make a struggle - that was always his go-to plan.

"Welcome back, Agent Barton," she said, leaning back in the chair next to his head. "I'm Luna - I work with S.H.I.E.L.D.."

He relaxed immensely, frowning down at his bindings. "Oops!" exclaimed Luna, leaping up from the chair and taking her hand from his tight grip. Clint fought back a blush when he realised he had been clenching it tightly. She drew a long, thin stick from her jean pocket, smiling apologetically and tapping the wire bindings lightly.

"What the hell was that?" he exclaimed, sitting up and rubbing his upper arms. "You just wave that stick and some red light comes out and next thing I know I'm here and then you wave it again and I'm perfectly fine? That sure sounds like witchcraft." Clint narrowed his eyes and Luna giggled.

"What if I told you it was witchcraft?" said Luna softly.

* * *

Natasha found Bruce in the hallway, fully dressed and unbound. "Damn magic," she murmured, frustrated, as she bent over and wrapped Bruce's arm around her shoulder. He jolted awake, crashing back to the floor. "Welcome to the world, Dr Banner," she said sarcastically, lifting his arm up again and pulling him to his feet.

"What happened?" he asked, bewildered and slightly guilty. "The last thing I remember was chasing you around that corner..."

She laughed. "Luna," stated Natasha, as if that made perfect sense. It seemed to make perfect sense to Bruce, too, and he nodded.

"Call me Bruce, Agent Romanoff."

"Call me Natasha, Bruce," replied the redhead softly, leading him into the room next door to Clint's.

* * *

_**Sorry it's so short, guys, but I promise the next chapter will be longer.**_


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